[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid: January 20, 2014]
If you think the recent cold snap was unprecedently unpleasant, well it had some competition ten years ago when one Saturday in January showed a daytime temperature of 4 degrees Fahrenheit.
I remember the walk down to Chinatown, the wind threatening to freeze the tears in my eyes, every exposed piece of skin smartin. And the walk was just to get to a Chinese lunch.
A fellow fine beak had determined we should dine at Oriental Garden, commonly said to offer the best Cantonese food in the neighborhood, and a sharp chill wasn't going to deter her. After warming bowls of congee, we disposed of two kinds of tripe, chicken feet, char siu bau, turnip cake, pea shoot dumplings, soup dumplings, and giant oysters.
And the oysters were indeed giant: huge, hulking grey slugs, of curiously dense texture, but brightly briny flavor. I remember that, on leaving the restaurant, we caught a bus on The Bowery. We didn't know where it was going, but anything was preferable to being on the street.
It had warmed up marginally by the next evening, when I went to see Tony Kushner's musical Caroline, or Change at the Public Theater. Otherwise, I was pretty much staying in the East Village, that cold week. Philly "un-cheesesteak" at Kate's Korner on Avenue B. A lamb sandwich with eggplant at The General Store, on the same strip. Braised pork ribs with savoy cabbage at home. Reading Clayhanger by Arnold Bennett and Le Sursis by Sartre. Waiting for the sun to shine.
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